


buying stars to shut out the light

by Crow_Dust



Series: Beyond the Silver Moon [2]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Complicated Relationships, Light Angst, M/M, Teen Romance, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24337324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crow_Dust/pseuds/Crow_Dust
Summary: Max breathes in the fresh night air and leans back on his hands so that he can now squint at the strangely thoughtful and silent Charles. Everything that happens between them is a strange feverish dream. Flighty, insufferable, unhealthy, and viscous. It seems to him that he is about to wake up, shake off this obsession, but he is drawn deeper into this abyss of pleasure with hints of madness.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, Max Verstappen/Dilara Sanlik (past), Pierre Gasly/Caterina Masetti Zannini
Series: Beyond the Silver Moon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731100
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	buying stars to shut out the light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eanes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eanes/gifts), [Xinatique](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xinatique/gifts).



Dilara's laugh was the first thing Max heard as soon as he set foot in the clearing, and it settles down on his soul with the bitterness of missed opportunities. Next to her, Caterina is sitting primly, but her face immediately lit up with a smile when she noticed them with Pierre, who mirroring her with the same stupid smile and immediately forgets about Max’s existence. His friend is naive, kind-hearted, and completely in love, but it seems to be mutual. Max just rolls his eyes and goes to the table for a drink, ignoring the sidelong glances, used to being an uninvited guest at witchcraft festivals. Only he had already forgotten the reason for their dislike, but here she was, flesh and blood, twisting the hem of her dress in her hands and biting her lips, clearly thinking to approach him and talk.

So he ends up on the roof of the trailer, avoiding an awkward encounter with the past. The metal heated during the day warms his back pleasantly, the alcohol he has drunk makes his head numb, and he feels that he is falling into a dream. Wolf's dream, as it was called in the common people. Just blink and you're asleep. But something is keeping him awake. The presence of someone else teases his instincts, and he opens his eyes, ready to launch into another offensive tirade, but the words stick in his throat when Max sees who it is. Meeting Charles at a witches' sabbath was not part of his plan.

"I didn't know you smoked," Max says instead, finally collecting his thoughts and sitting down next to Charles, his legs dangling over the roof.

Charles gives him an unreadable look from under his lashes, snorts, and blows cigarette smoke right in his face. Max frowns and turns away, deciding not to say anything. The acrid smoke eats away at his lungs, bringing not the most pleasant memories from his childhood. The itch under the skin on his forearm becomes unbearable, so he nervously scratches the tender skin, digging his claws into the flesh, and hopes that this gesture has gone unnoticed.

Max can feel Charles's eyes on his face as he finishes his cigarette in silence. The silence envelops them as if in a cocoon — the music and noise of the excited crowd comes as if through a thick layer of cotton wool. The only thing Max can hear is the sound of cicadas and his own breathing. He breathes in the fresh night air and leans back on his hands so that he can now squint at the strangely thoughtful and silent Charles.

Everything that happens between them is a strange feverish dream. Flighty, insufferable, unhealthy, and viscous. It seems to him that he is about to wake up, shake off this obsession, but he is drawn deeper into this abyss of pleasure with hints of madness.

Charles himself, as the personification of all vices, usually only smiled innocently at him, and the devils danced in his eyes. Even now, the firelight is reflected in his eyes, giving it an unearthly glow. Max looks at his chiseled profile, his slim hands, the curve of his lips. How damn gorgeous he is.

"You think too loud".

Max blinks in surprise and doesn't have time to answer, because the next moment Charles leans over and kisses him on the lips. In their kiss there is no habitual aggression, rivalry and struggle that have become the leitmotif of their relationship. His hand buries itself in Charles's hair, pulling it slightly, and Charles groans contentedly into the kiss. Max feels a hand pressing insistently on his chest, and he obediently sinks to the roof, exhaling contentedly and putting his other hand under Charles's sweatshirt.

A sudden crash makes them pull away from each other, and then they heard a disgruntled voice from the bottom:

"Only. Not. On. My. Roof. "

Charles leans over the roof and sticks out his tongue, while Max lies with his face in his hands. Oh, my God. You can't lose your head like that and forget where you are. While Charles and Esteban are talking about something in French, Max catches a glimpse of Daniel's name in their dialogue, his own name, and only by the sarcastic intonation understands Charles’s response, who after a couple of moments again straightens up and mirror Max’s pose, leaning back on the roof.

"The roof is privatized, so we should behave decently", Charles echoes another characteristic blow on the metal skin of the trailer.

Max just grunts in response, his cheekbones still red with shame. He never dares to remove his hands from his face: open expression of feelings has always been a problem for him. An uncontrollable and ingrained aversion to being vulnerable in front of others.

"If you're worried about Pierre, don't," Charles tells him after a short pause, and Max reluctantly removes his hands from his face.

"What makes you think that?"

Charles turns to him and raises an eyebrow, as if asking if he is serious.

"You're a really good friend, Max," he said, and something showed on Max’s face. "Don't take it personally, but you don't look like you have any friends at all at first. Caterina is my friend, and I've known her for years. God, I've never heard her talk so much about the same guy in my life," Max chuckles as Charles rolls his eyes. "And I've heard about your complicated relationship with the witch clan. She's a real charmer."

"Let's not talk about it," Max snaps, his voice almost breaking. This was not a topic he would discuss with Leclerc. This is too personal, on the verge of intimacy, which is not available to them. Or is it?..

Charles only grunts in understanding and turns away, raising his eyes to the starry sky, and a dreamy smile blooms on his lips again. The moon grins back at him. Max is mesmerized by his elegant profile, so it takes a moment for him to feel cold, thin fingers touch his wrist, gently running the pads of his fingers over his palm. He obediently opens it, interlacing their fingers, and turns away, also looking at the starry canvas.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [nathanieldewalde](https://nathanieldewalde.tumblr.com/).  
> There are a lot of my esthetics and gifs here.


End file.
